All Hands on deck
by Face to Face
Summary: Well it's in Pullings pov set just after the end of the film when he's taken command of the Acheron. He's not having the best of luck to say the least. it's only T cos of a bit of swearing please rr
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own it, unfortunately

**"All hands on deck, bracing both masts hard a starboard"**

"Coils on deck and down to one turn"

**"Haul away"**

_"2-6-heave, 2-6-heave"_

"Steady on the main topgallant, we don't want her to snap"

_"2-6-heave"_

"That's it lads"

**"Now I want 6 of you on the upper topsail before this blasted wind rips her to shreds"**

"You there, haul away on the clews and bunts"

**"Faster damn it, we're losing her"**

"That's it, good work men"

**"An extra ration of rum for the lot of you"**

"We'll be there in no time if this wind carries on Captain"

**"Yes, if it doesn't take our sails with it"**

Captain Tom Pullings heaved a sigh of relief as he climbed in to his cot. His first day in command of the Acheron had been trying to say the least. Around half of his crew were injured from the battle to capture the ship and the other half were being violently seasick. It'd be a miracle if he didn't end up on the floor at least twice that night the blasted boat was throwing itself around so much.

He'd been delighted when Jack had given him command of this fine vessel, but that had quickly turned to despair. The Acheron was surely a cursed ship. They had destroyed the main mast in capturing her and consequently she was sailing like a drunken old woman. The coarse was riddled with holes from musket fire and there wasn't a spare on board. The French crew must have thrown it overboard when they knew they were going to lose the battle. His men were working flat out to repair the damage but having the sail down was making the ship as unstable as hell. Only the Mizzen mast had emerged totally unscathed. To make matters worse the French prisoners were contenting themselves by making the most awful racket imaginable. He could hardly hear himself think. With any luck they would find an Island tomorrow with a few good trees they could make a new mast from, but he doubted it.


	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own it, though I certainly wish I owned Tom. drools

And for anyone who thinks that my sailing talk is complete and utter crap well you're probably right but I have actually sailed on a ship like that before in a force nine gale across the English channel and know exactly what its like to climb 100ft up a mast in the pouring rain in the middle of the night. (It's not nice.)

Tom was rather less than impressed to be woken up by a scalding hot cup of coffee being spilt all over his stomach. Not being in the best moods anyway, after having ended up on the floor no less than 6 times that night, he sat up wit a yell and told his young cook in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of his room that instant unless he wanted to be flogged. As the door clicked shut he slumped back into his cot with a feeling of dread. He could already picture the sort of day he was going to have and it was not a nice image. And if those damned French didn't shut up soon then he'd have them all gagged, bound and possibly tossed overboard or hung from the yards. Either of the last two ideas seemed pretty appealing.

At least the wind had died down a bit though. He hadn't wanted to admit it but yesterday had caused a rather unwelcome reoccurrence of the seasickness he'd suffered so badly from as a lad. It had almost disappeared as he'd grown older and only reared its ugly head very occasionally when Tom was ill or the ship was corkscrewing in bad weather. His only solace was that the great Nelson also suffered from seasickness. That hadn't been much of a consolation though when the man himself had slipped over in a pile of Tom's stomach contents when he'd been serving under Nelson as a midshipman on the Victory. To be fair he was only 12 at the time and was also feeling rather homesick. Still, it had earned him distinction as the young midshipman who'd thrown up all over Nelson, not that that was a good thing, though it did mean that people knew who he was.

Really it was a miracle he'd ever made it to be a Captain at all. He hadn't the birth or money you needed to make it far in the Navy. But he did have Jack Aubrey as a friend, and that counted for a lot. He'd had some great times with Jack and many fond memories of racing down the rigging. It was true that they'd had their fair share of disagreements too, but that was all in the past now. Because of Jack he'd finally been able to realise his childhood dream of becoming Captain Pollings, and for that he'd be eternally grateful.

He had been given permission to decide on a new name for the Acheron. There was no way that the British Navy would have a French named ship in their fleet. Mr James, his first lieutenant, rather liked the idea of HMS Impenetrable, in honour of the ships fabulous hull design, while Mr Williamson the sailing master wanted HMS Justice. Tom rather fancied the name HMS Fearless. It would be a good strong name for a good strong ship. He was sure that Jack would approve too.

Tom was rather rudely disturbed from his daydreaming when for a 7th time in 24 hours he was deposited onto the floor. In no time at all he was dressed and out onto the waist. It was total chaos. Most of the crew had been throw to the floor and up on the bridge Will Stokes who'd been at the helm was unconscious, having smashed his head against the wheel.

"**What the hell is going on up here?"**

"Well Captain we seem to have grounded ourselves on a shallow reef."

"_Captain, we're taking on water, and fast."_

"**A reef? Surely we should be at least 20 miles to the West of here by now."**

"Well yes Captain but what with the wind last night and an absolutely ripping current we couldn't keep our course sir."

"**Why on Earth didn't you fools wake me?"**

"_We didn't want to wake you sir, not on account of your seasickness sir."_

"We were trying to put it right, but I think our navigation was a bit out sir."

Tom groaned. He'd known that today was going to be a bad day but this news topped just about anything he'd possibly imagined. They'd just have to tow the ship of the rocks with the rowing boats and patch up the damage the best they could so they could make it to a port without sinking. There would be no chance of looking for a new mast now. This was going to be a very long day. And how the hell did they know that he got seasick?


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed an age before Tom could muster his thoughts to come up with a plan of action. The off duty watches would have to fother a sail while his carpenter and assistants worked to shore up the breach.

Peering over the edge of the stricken ship Tom groaned to see a hole that should more accurately been termed a yawning chasm. Perhaps they'd hit the reef with an already damaged part of hull that had escaped notice before. That would be the most likely reason for the rather large and unsightly hole in the side of the ship. To make matters worse there seemed to be a crashing and banging coming from below deck that most definitely wasn't coming from his carpenters. He was sure there was shouting too but the cause of it for the moment was eluding him.

"Captain?"

"_Yes? Is there a problem? Other than the obvious one of course."_

"It's the frogs sir. They say they're drowning."

Oh yes, he'd forgotten about the minor matter of his prisoners. He supposed that they'd have to be brought up on deck. If they were mustered up on the fore deck then at least there were only two ways of escape, and even then nowhere to escape too. Even so, he'd have marines guard the stairs just incase any were fool enough to try. They could even be put to work. He might as well make them work for their food. They could redo the sloshing on some old ropes. He'd give the rather unpleasant job of mixing the black tar like stuff to the worst of the rabble rousers. They could then be kept out of sight down in the bosun's locker for a while. That doctor would be the first down there too. He did nothing but sneer whenever Tom went down to inspect the prisoners. It was as if he knew something Tom didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours and a lot of sweat later the worst of the damage had been repaired and the ship was fairly watertight again. The ship was riding very low in the water but it turned out that the French were rather useful when it came to bailing out a ships hold that was swimming with water. Particular delight had been taken in giving that smug faced doctor a particularly leaky bucket with which to bail. Tom had never seen much use for the French before but then his mother had always said you learn something new every day and this was no exception.

There had been one minor scuffle on deck between the prisoners and their guards but nothing that a jab with the butt of a rifle into the offender's stomach couldn't handle and the marines were more than happy to deliver this punishment.

It was also mercifully quiet on board ship now. The howling wind had died down at around noon much to the relief of all on board and now only a light breeze remained. During the day one of the carpenter's assistants had succeeded in driving a nail through the flesh of his thumb whilst the ship was thrashing about attempting to break free from all restraints and drown them all but thankfully it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. A casual walk around the deck and finding nothing amiss assured Tom that all was well and he returned to his cabin for the first peaceful night sleep in days.

The next few days turned out to be fairly unremarkable much to everyone's relief. A good sized island was spotted and a brief foray ashore uncovered a tree that seemed almost to have been grown just in order to be chopped down to become a mast. William Bishop, the carpenter, had then proceeded to spend hours extolling the virtues of wood, in particular this fine specimen that was gradually being shaped into a mast and Tom was forced to agree regularly that yes it was particularly fine but secretly thought that really he didn't care much as long as it stood upright and carried sails. Although it took several weeks to craft the new mast the crew seemed content to carry out minor work on the ship and to explore the island. Indeed, several of the men had chanced upon some sort of a wild pig and brought it back to be roasted on the small beach. Tom hadn't joined his men and had instead supped on board the Acheron, knowing that the crew would prefer to be alone to enjoy the chance to relax without an officer present and thankfully all had behaved themselves.

By the grace of God the mast was erected with precious little difficulty, the yards were attached, the sails unfurled and the Acheron was once more able to carry on her way with a satisfied captain and crew. Tom's most pressing concern was now to find a port and restock with victuals. He was used to eating ships biscuit with a little extra protein added in the form of a few wiggling weevils but really it could never do any harm to have fresh food. At dinner a weevil had seen fit to attempt a suicide leap into his glass of wine and Tom had been reminded of Jack Aubrey laughing and telling his good friend Stephen Maturin that surely he knew that one should always choose the lesser of two weevils. Tom had heard the exact same joke at least 10 times before but never failed to find it amusing to watch the look of glee on Jack's face as he gave his victim the lesson in life. Fishing the weevil out of his wine Tom wondered how his friends were, and supposed that by now they were probably on the far side of the world.


End file.
